Chaotic Marionette
by Program 13
Summary: A story about WHY Kefka went 'crazy' and tried to destroy the world. It seems like puppets do have wills of their own. Chapters 2&3 now up. R&R please.
1. Prelude of the Shadowbox Puppet

Chaotic Marionette  
Prelude of the Shadowbox Puppet  
  
Hey! I was getting irritated with the lack of nonKefka bashing fics. So, here's my pretty little psycho pet himself! Warning, this contains implied nonconsensual yaoi pedophileness on the Emperor's part. Well, that's about it. Oh yeah, I don't own anything blah blah blah. One more thing, the shadow box puppets means the imperial states and Kefka. ^^ Enjoy!  
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He touched the night shrouded face on the mirror gingerly. It was sad and pale and foreign despite having seen all of his life. His thin, pallid finger traced the nearly invisible scars and wisps of strayed blonde hair on his watery moon lit effigy. He hated the face that was staring back at him mockingly, with it's weak and sickly appearance. It showed every strain he lived and every stain on his minuscule honor. He hated that face that peered out of the moon lit covers on the bed behind him as well. It was a dirty, carnal relic of some ancient evil that should have passed but still remained to haunt him. He simply wished he could tare his nails into the man papery face and rip it off like so many pages from a bad book. he watched the exhaust laden face in it's terrible slumber. Slumber that had saved him from further agony and perversion. His thought's rolled from vengeance to the man's impending doom. He would kill that wretched man, and dance upon his shallow grave with a sickening psychotic passion. The old vampire would die a the fitting death of the infirm in the street, never to fell the warmth of forgiveness from his executioner.  
  
A frail sneer took his wan face, scars arching elegantly under his unnatural violet eyes. The man who had created him would now fall at his puppets stringless hands. He would fell the scorn of a marionette released. A new empire would overshadow his and crumble it's pathetic metal hold on the world. He would release the shadow box puppets and begin a new age. The young man closed his eyes and thought of fire and blood flowing through the streets of Vector Whirled in his twisted, violent mind.   
  
*This will be the new order,* he thought with a grin, *This is what I was created for.* 


	2. Death to the Training Dummy

Chaotic Marionette  
Death to the Training Dummy  
  
*I don't own anything blah blah blah. Kefka realizes his two options in life, neither of which seem to make sense to him. Enjoy the second chapter. ^^*  
  
"I'm sorry sir. It's just that this experiment seems to have failed. He can't do anything he's supposed to be able to do. Sure, he's wonderful at being destructive, and he's abnormally strong compared to someone of the same age but aside from that... nothing."  
  
The Emperor listened to Cid disdainfully. The failure of this project would mean 17 years and irreplaceable resources wasted. "I thought you designed him with a fail safe."  
  
Cid cringed. He hated to think what the Emperor was suggesting he do. "Well..." he stopped and took a long breath, "not exactly, your Highness. He has a secondary function, yes, but he'd have to be invalidated first."  
  
Gehstal glared at the ruddy scientist. "I'm not pleased, Cid."  
  
"I know, sir. If I can just have a week or two..."  
  
"Fine, but I want this business over and done with before the magistrates arrive. He'll either use magic or join the Espers. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
  
Kefka felt sick. He stumbled out of the corridor and down the stairs away from the throne room. He didn't like to eavesdrop normally. People were boring and he never cared much for their secrets, but he just hadn't been able to resist. He wished he had not heard any of the horrible discussion in the throne room. The relic was going to try and off him before he got his revenge. At first he'd been terrified, then he was just sick. He took the turns of the palace blindly and lost his footing as a hallway became a staircase. He tumbled into dark oblivion, finally stopping flat on his face. Kefka pushed himself off of the cold metal floor and held his bleeding nose. His sickness melted away into seething rage as he noticed the portrait of Gehstal staring back at him from the opposite wall. *I'll use magic you f***** up piece of slime. I'll make you wish I was never born.* He raised to his feet and exited the room, all of his hatred focused on the poorly done profile in the room behind him.  
  
  
It was at one time thought that the palace was haunted. Strange fires had begun to spread at unexplainable times. They never hurt anyone, just whatever had been on fire in the first place. The palace guards were shaken and nervous and maids begged for leave to their homes. Magistrates were asked stay in their homelands until the mystery was cleared up. But the fires died off after a few weeks. Small sections of the throne room had to be refurbished, the armory restocked, and pieces of art had to be replaced with new paintings. But soon the palace quieted down and tensions were forgotten. The fires had given longer time for preparations for the arrival of ambassadors from several states. Few people still wondered what had happened, but few made any effort to find out.  
  
  
"This is the last time we're gonna try this, son," Cid sighed at the young man beside him. The pair entered one of the interior training rooms that had been closed off from the army especially for this use.  
  
Kefka sighed at the insistence of the pudgy little man. "I can't do this."  
  
"Just try! Please... I don't like..." Cid trailed off, not wanting to admit the certainty of the coming doom of his creation.   
  
Kefka gazed woefully at the battered dummy. He felt his impending end closing in around him in the tiny room. He'd always viewed the hay man as a play thing, until now. Today it was his mocking and very real opponent. The rough burlap seemed like impenetrable armor and the busted broomstick tethered to it's 'arm' was his worst nightmare. Today it was him or his scarecrow adversary, and the sinking in his stomach said he didn't have a chance. *I'm going to die... That basterd is going to kill me and use me to power his f****** seat warmer because I can't DESTROY A TRAINING DUMMY?! This is ridiculous... that dirty man whore couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag. I should just go up there and kill him-*  
  
The door behind him slammed shut, making both Cid and himself jump. Kefka glanced over his shoulder even though he knew what he'd see. Emperor Gehstal was a few steps behind Cid with his brow furrowed in exasperated impatience. "Well Kefka, we haven't got all day. Get on with it, or should we just deem you a failure and move on with our lives?"  
  
Kefka scowled to himself and went back to staring down the dummy. *He's already celebrating my death... Well it isn't going to happen. I'm not dying unless that a** goes first. I refuse... The new order must be established if this world is to survive...*  
  
"Hurry up, Plazzao."  
  
Kefka's thoughts circulated somewhere far beyond the room and he lost all focus on the overgrown rag doll in front of him. He receded into a very cold place. His body almost seemed to shut off. Cid became worried as Kefka became intensely still. The Emperor tapped his foot and sighed.  
  
"That's it Cid. No more. He is a failure. His services will be terminated after the ambassadors leave. The fires gave you a two week extension and it was all for nothing. I expect you to attend to all of the programs that you have let slip. I also expect that mediocre waste of flesh to be kept out of my sight. Do you understand?"  
  
Cid hung his head and nodded drearily. "Of course, sir..."  
  
*... services will be terminated... I'm going to die...* The room focused into painful detail as the door shut with eerie finality. He looked speechlessly to his creator, who was trying desperately to avoid looking back.  
  
"I'm sorry Kefka Plazzao." With that Cid left the young man standing in the tiny room with his conqueror.  
  
The filthy rag man was laughing at him. It was a horrible grating laugh that echoed in his head and frightened him. The dummy would have been rolling on the floor if it had been a person. But it could only laugh and jeer now. It had defeated him without a fight and now it had the last laugh, just like the Emperor. Fiery tears choked Kefka's vision as he turned to his enemy with every ounce malice and brutal hatred he possesed in his body.  
  
There was another fire that day. 


	3. Hell Hounds Pyromania

Chaotic Marionette  
Hell Hounds (or) Pyromania  
  
*I STILL don't own anything yada yada yada. Kefka becomes very aware of his abilities and his mental state begins to truly deteriorate. Enjoy the 3rd installment. ^^*  
  
  
*Two days... that's it... that's all I have left... I never had meaning... I will never leave my mark... Never free this shadowbox of it's horrific puppeteer...* Kefka pushed back a silvered strand of hair in the dim moonlight. He peered down remorsefully on the sprawling capitol below him. *These pathetic wretches will only suffer more with my passing...* Distantly, the rumble of thunder warned that he would be forced inside by the driving torrents of a late spring storm. Tiny streaks lit the sky on the horizons edge and wispy clouds chased the wind, blocking out the moon. Below him the kennels were becoming more alive with activity as the dogs began sense the storm coming. They barked and howled as if it were judgment day and the goddesses were about to rain fire upon their heads. The demure brown of uniforms and armor would catch his eyes from time to time as they scurried about, preparing for the weather and changing guard shifts. Everything looked so distant and tiny from his perch so high above it all.  
  
He wondered how far down it actually was. He wondered how far he would fall if he just ended it. He would at least have revenge to some extent then. The emperor would no longer be able to torture his 'pathetic whore'. He wouldn't be able to hide him anymore. A satisfied grin stretched across his face. *Explain THAT to Figaro and Doma your ancient fool... 'I don't know why this man jumped off my palace. Honest I-'*  
  
"Um... excuse me, sir."  
  
Kefka jumped in alarm at the sudden intrusion on his repose. "Huh?"  
  
The rather skinny soldier that had spoken scratched his head uncertainly. He looked almost Kefka's age. "There's a storm coming. And the commanders want to get everyone rounded up. You might want to get into uniform or the captain will have your head..." he trailed off looking rather ackward at the blank stare Kefka was giving him. "You're not a soldier are you? I'm dumb..."  
  
Kefka figured he was a fresh recruit from some poor old farm town. He nodded. "No. I'm just a dead man."  
  
"Well, dead man, nice to meet you. I'm Leo. Um, we'd best get inside. Do you know where the armory is? I'm kinda lost in there."  
  
Kefka almost smiled, realizing that Leo had just, in a strange and obscure way, saved his life. He led the way down the stairs, and motioned the young man to follow him. "Yes, follow me. It's just down this way..."  
The young man had left his company to take his post. The world seemed a little less dreary and fatalistic. Leo had a rather endearing quality of honesty and unshakable loyalty. Unfortunately, it was for the Empire, but that could be changed easily enough. Kefka scoffed at his own momentary optimism, but his mood didn't change. He was still content for some reason. He had decided to wander out into the storm and go down to the kennels, where Leo had said there was going to be some dog fights. It sounded rather menial but it was better than anything else that was going on at the moment. He rounded the last corner and hurried to the open gates of the kennel. A rather damp looking soldier and an attack dog halted him.  
  
"This is a clearance area only, buddy."  
  
"I am free to go where I please." He crinkled his nose a little at the smell of cheap alcohol.  
  
"Not without proper clearance. I think you'd best just mosey on along there bud."  
  
"Let me in."  
  
"You ain't my captain, don't give me orders, punk." The man pushed him back roughly, the smell of beer becoming more pronounced when he drew near.  
  
Kefka stumbled backwards but caught his footing. His eyes narrowed and he tensed for a fight. "Don't touch me."  
  
The dog with the man bared it's teeth and flattened it's ears. "If you don't leave he'll kill you. And don't think I'll stop him, little boy."  
  
The calmness from his talk with Leo disintegrated. His anger and sorrow and fear melted into a red wash and focused on the dog and the man. He didn't move.  
  
"You got three seconds, punk," he paused for a few seconds, fumbling with the latch on the dogs chain. "Don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he released the hound in all it's fury.  
  
It closed the gap between them in less than a second and hit the ground with a yelp. It struggled to get up but collapsed again. It's muscles quivered and it's chest began to convulse. It whimpered and began to get sick at Kefka's feet. The world seemed to shatter into blackness in Kefka's mind, all that existed in this hollow expanse was this pathetic dog and the drunkard. The dog choked and gagged and blood began to trickle from it's mouth. It writhed in agony as blood began to seep from its eyes and nose as well. The dog's coat began to smoke and individual hairs began to smolder. The man was frantic and panic stricken, and nearly fainted when his dog exploded into flames and turned to glittering ashes and settles to the ground, adding to the bloody mud puddle at his enemy's feet. The man turned tail screaming. He fled into the gates of the kennel and ran out of sight, but the sudden stop of his screams told him that he hadn't missed.  
  
Kefka's vision returned. Around him, the world seemed to have exploded into chaos. Soldiers were running from there posts to see what the commotion was about. The straw on the floor of the kennel near the gate was quickly spreading fire. The dogs in their pens howled and tried to free themselves from their cages. Men were running from within the kennel, their faces aghast. There was no sleep for anyone that night. It appeared that the fires were at it again. No one really noticed Kefka standing there in the bloody mud that had once been a dog, as the kennels erupted into a brilliant show of fire and destruction. Not even the rain's driving fury could quench the blistering flames. He grinned contentedly to himself.  
  
Magic was fun. The new order was soon at hand. 


End file.
